A Rare Gift
A Rare Gift
Jaci Burton
With a disastrous marriage behind him, Wyatt Kent has no interest in getting involved with any woman, let alone his ex-wife’s younger sister. But when Calliope Andrews hires him to build an addition onto her day care center, Wyatt can’t help but notice she’s a desirable woman, as warm and funny as his ex was cold and aloof.
Calliope fell hard for Wyatt the first time he walked through the door of her family’s home, and can’t believe her sister let him get away. He’s still the star of all her fantasies, and she’s determined to prove to him she’s nothing like his manipulative ex. Wyatt may be all business, but Calliope sees the way he looks at her when he’s supposed to be working…
It’s not long before Wyatt and Calliope are keeping each other warm on cold December nights. But it’s going to take a Christmas miracle for Wyatt to put his trust in love a second time.
28,000 words
Dear Reader,
In December 2010 we published our first set of three holiday collections. I hoped at the time it would become a Carina Press tradition, and I’m pleased that we were able to do this again in 2011.
This year, I invited four amazing authors to participate in the contemporary holiday collection. Between them, Jaci Burton, HelenKay Dimon, Alison Kent and Shannon Stacey have decades of writing experience and have published books their fans have adored. I knew these four authors would bring together holiday stories that would capture our hearts and take us away from the holiday craziness for a few hours. And did they ever!
I’m thrilled and proud to share the heart-wrenching and wonderful holiday stories of the Holiday Kisses collection with you. I hope you love
A Rare Gift
by Jaci Burton,
It’s Not Christmas Without You
by HelenKay Dimon,
This Time Next Year
by Alison Kent and
Mistletoe and Margaritas
by Shannon Stacey as much as I did. These are stories and characters that will live on for you, long after you’ve read the last page.
I’m incredibly pleased to make these stories available to you both individually, and as a collection, and I hope you fall in love with them just as I did!
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
For Charlie. I love you.
Wyatt Kent stood outside Small Hands Day Care Center, debating whether or not he could actually go inside.
He was no coward, but it wasn’t often he was faced with something like this.
He was about to give a bid on a construction job for his ex-wife’s younger sister.
How he’d gotten stuck with this he didn’t know. That was what he got for not paying attention in meetings. He’d been bulldozed by his two brothers along with Tori, Kent Construction’s oh-so-efficient but manipulative office manager.
“No big deal, Wyatt.”
“Calliope Andrews is nothing like your ex-wife, Cassandra.”
“No one else can do the project, Wyatt. It’s either you or the job doesn’t get done.”
Might as well suck it up and get this over with. The wood-frame house was painted shocking blue and blinding white. The sign out in the front yard was plastered with a bunch of multicolored handprints.
So it was cute. The house needed a new coat of paint. Probably would need a new roof within the next year or two, too. But that wasn’t his problem. He stood at the end of the walkway and watched the endless parade of parents driving up to the side of the house. The side door opened, parents dashed in to retrieve kids, then the car drove through to the back alley and the next car pulled up.
Wyatt went up to the front door and rang the bell, then waited for someone to answer. And waited. And waited. He tried the door, figuring he’d let himself in, but it was locked.
Great.
He went around to the side and was halted by a tall, thick woman with short cropped black hair and likely more muscles than he had. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked more like a wrestler than a day care worker.
She frowned, gave him the head-to-toe once-over.
“Who are you?”
“Wyatt Kent. I have an appointment with Calliope Andrews.”
She laid her hand on his chest to keep him in place. “Stay here. Miss Calliope, there’s a Wyatt Kent here. Says he’s supposed to meet with you.”
“Oh, that’s right. It’s okay, Beth. I’m expecting him.”
Beth tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Go on back. You’re in my way.”
“Go on back where?”
“Straight down the hall, then turn right. All the way to the end.”
Wyatt nodded and dodged a bunch of giggling little girls on his way. They were a few years younger than his eight-year-old niece, Zoey, but they were all dressed in pink—Zoey’s favorite color.
Most of the kids must have gone home by now. With the exception of a few stragglers dashing by him on his way down the hall, the place had gone quiet. He found the room Beth had directed him to. It was fairly small and completely empty.
A playroom, it was stuffed with overflowing bookshelves and toys and tables and a giant castle.
He stood in the middle of the room, figuring Calliope had stepped out.
Until he heard a rustling in the castle, then a groan. He turned around and saw one very attractive, jeans-clad butt attempting to back out of the castle opening.
“I swear if my butt gets any bigger I’m not going to be able to clean the toys out of this thing and we’ll need to get a bigger castle.”
He disagreed. She had a great ass.
She flung toys over her shoulder while Wyatt stood there, feeling sort of inept.
“You need some help there?”
She stilled, her head jerked up and she bumped it against the opening. “Ow. Dammit.” She rubbed the wild curls on top of her head, then backed all the way out and sat on the floor, adjusted the tortoise-shell glasses that had ridden down the bridge of her very cute nose.
“Wyatt. I thought you were Beth. You’re not Beth.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Sorry. I was cleaning up in here.” She pushed off her knees and stood, adjusting her shirt over some very full breasts and grinned at him. “I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s go to my office where it’s a little less insane.”
The last time Wyatt had seen Calliope Andrews, he’d still been married to her older sister Cassandra, and Calliope had been—hell, in college? Maybe nineteen or twenty, at most, was his guess. She’d been chubby, her hair a corkscrew of untamed brown curls, and she’d worn really ugly glasses. In short, she’d been a hot mess.
He followed her down the hall, watching the way her hips moved when she walked.
“Here we are.” She opened the door and led him into a small office. Her desk sat next to the window and there were a couple chairs on either side. He took one and she sat across from him instead of at her desk.
She still wore glasses and her hair was still curly and she was still hot, all right. But she wasn’t a mess at all. Calliope had grown up. It had to have been six years or so at least since he’d seen her last. She’d lost the baby fat, was curvy in all the right places, and her glasses made her eyes look like sparkling emeralds.
God, she was gorgeous.
But she wasn’t at all like Cassandra, who’d been tall, slender and blonde.
And the devil in disguise.
“Thank you for taking on this project, Wyatt.”
“No one else had the time.”
She quirked a brow, then grinned again. “So you’re stuck with me, then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She laughed and didn’t seem at all offended. “I know this is probably hard for you, seeing as how you’ve managed to avoid me since I came to town.”
“I haven’t avoided you.”
“Yes, you have. But it’s okay. I understand why. You’re not very fond of my sister, and you think we’re exactly alike.” She patted his hand. “But trust me, I’m nothing like Cassie.”
He blinked, not sure he understood anything that had happened so far. He figured the two of them would dance around the topic of Cassandra, and here Calliope had said her name, torn open the wounds, making them bleed fresh, like it had happened yester…
“Wyatt. Wyatt.” She snapped her fingers. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” He stood. “Let’s go see where you want this addition.”
“Sure.” She stood, too. “Surely you’re over her by now, aren’t you? I mean it’s been three years. She’s not worth mourning over for that long.”
Calliope opened the door to her office and walked down the same hallway they’d come from.
Her saying it that way made him feel foolish for feeling closed up and angry for three damn years over a woman who’d only cared about herself.
“You are over her, aren’t you?”
God, she was persistent. “Yeah. Over her.”
“Good. Because I want us to be friends.”
He stopped in the middle of the hall. “What?”
She stopped, too, turning and dipping her head back to look into his eyes.
Damn she had pretty eyes. Pretty hair. And she smelled good, too. He couldn’t figure out what she smelled like. Something that made him want to swipe his tongue across her neck.
His jeans tightened. It had been a long damn time since that had happened. He didn’t trust women, tried to stay away from them.
And he sure as hell planned to stay away from Calliope.
“Wyatt. Are you drunk? Did you stop at the bar after work?”
“What?” He looked down at her. She must have been saying something, because her lips quirked.
“I’ve been talking. You’re not listening. Want to do this another day?”
“No.” He didn’t want to do it at all. “Show me what you want.”
She paused, her cheeks turning pink. “Sure. This way.”
They went into the room where the castle was. “I want the addition off this room, to extend the play area so I can separate the kids by age group. Younger kids in here, older kids in the new room.”
Finally, something to distract him from Calliope, from the way she looked, the way she smelled, the things—people—she reminded him of. He took out his tape measure and started making some notes based on what she wanted, which was a room a little larger than the one they stood in, with ample storage space.
Nothing fancy. Doable. Easy enough. He’d bring in some extra labor to help, and he’d be out of there. Calliope stayed quiet while he wrote down materials and labor needed to get the job done. He turned to her. Looked at her. And all the memories came flooding back.
He couldn’t do this.
“Wyatt. I know I was kidding you about getting over things and doing this job, but if you’re seriously having second thoughts, I know there’s this other company I looked up that can handle it. The Johnson Brothers?”
That did it.
Kent Construction was a family-owned business and had been since their father and grandfather had started up the company over fifty years ago. They’d had a stronghold on Deer Lake with very little competition.
The Johnsons were a new outfit who’d been leeching into their territory for the past few years, stealing business away from them. Wyatt didn’t mind competition, but he didn’t like the Johnson brothers. They weren’t local, their workmanship was shoddy, they cut corners and used inferior products. And he hated losing to them.
It was only a single room addition. How long could it take? A month, six weeks at most.
He could suck it up and deal for six weeks. And even if he couldn’t, he wasn’t about to give a job away—an easy job he could handle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll go back to the office, write up an estimate and have it delivered to you tomorrow.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Won’t you bring it by so we can get the contract signed? I’d like to get started on this as soon as possible.” She raised her hands out to her sides. “As you can tell we’ve outgrown the space and really need the extra room here.”
He inhaled, let it out. “Fine. I’ll deliver it in the morning and bring a contract with me.”
There was that grin again. She had dimples. Awfully cute.
No. She wasn’t cute. Not at all. Nothing about her was cute. Or sexy.
“I gotta go.” He turned and fled the room.
“Okay.” She skirted in front of him. “Here, let’s go out the front door.”
Once again he was forced to trail behind her, giving him a great view of her ass.
Calliope was the first woman he’d noticed—really ogled, as a matter of fact—in a long time.
That sent danger and warning signals flashing in his head.
Say no. Walk away. Don’t do this job.
But he’d be damned if he was going to lose another job to those asshole Johnsons. How much danger could he be in with Calliope Andrews? She owned a day care center. She would be busy all day. So would he. They’d barely run into each other, right?
She opened the door and stood with her hand on the door knob, the other pushing up her glasses.
“Thanks for coming by, Wyatt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
He hurried out the front door and hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until he reached the sidewalk. He turned back to look at the door.
Calliope was still there. She waved at him.
Like an idiot he waved to her, then snatched his hand back and shoved it in his jacket pocket.
He was not going to be nice. He didn’t have to be. All he had to do was his job.
And nothing more.